Stranger Than Fiction
by Evil Comma
Summary: Nothing is ever as it seems. Especially when kidnapping a movie star. M for language. A/U OOC


**I do not own Twilight or Robert Pattinson**

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Deep breaths don't really do anything. They slow down our heart, keep our bodies from working so fast but they don't take away anxiety. They don't erase that jittery feeling that pads along the walls of our bellies. His deep breaths weren't really doing anything. His hands were still shaking and sweat still ran down his neck. The leather bag he held felt heavier than it really was and he felt like it's weight might make him tip over. He tried to count down from 20. _17, 16, will we get caught?, 15, is it that well planned?, 14, 13, what if he's with someone?, 11, 10, what is the minimum sentence for kidnapping? Where was I? 9? Or maybe 8?_

He shook his head as if that would make all his doubts slip from his mind. He checked his watch. 12:20. He stood up from the bench and started pushing through the many bodies that crowded the midday Vancouver downtown area. He reached the corner and scanned the street. 12:21. They had only 11 minutes, where were they. Nothing. A minivan, a sports car a few fords maybe a mazda, those were getting popular and what appeared to be a convertible. He was starting to look suspicious in his dark clothing, unusual for the late spring. Somebody was going to say something, they all knew. His paranoia had completely taken over.

He stood on the corner by himself, waiting. Nobody noticed him. He felt eyes staring into his conscience but really they were just looking at the ridiculous man wearing a black coat in the middle of May. Nobody noticed as a white van swerved dangerously close to the sidewalk nearly hitting the man. Nobody noticed the man jump into the moving vehicle. Nobody noticed the man who had been there just a second ago. Why would they notice?

There were 4 men in the van. At the wheel a large man with almost no neck concentrated on the road ahead. In front of him were another two. A skinny man with very common looks. The kind of man you'd forget ever seeing. The last one was bald but refused to shave the little hair he had left. He was obviously stubborn. He looked at the most recent passenger with indifference. "You're late," the man in the dark clothes said loud enough for all three to hear. "12:23. Can we make it in 9 minutes. Debrief me."

The large man grunted, the skinny one whimpered and the bald one opened his mouth. "Yes we will. The job is simple. 200,000 split 4 ways. The percentages go accordingly : 35 for me, after all I am the mastermind, 35 for our little snoop who has spent 4 weeks stalking our target, 15 for our driver and 15 for you." He grinned in the most demeaning way as if the dark clothed man was any less of a person just for receiving a smaller amount of the money.

"I imagine that if my actual skills are necessary, my share will go up?" He kept his cool, not letting his emotions reflect in his actions. Dozens of jobs and no employer had ever treated him so poorly.

"Of course," the bald man said, "IF we need your true services. Basically, you're insurance. If something goes wrong, you get 10 percent more. I do sincerely hope everything goes as planned and we only use you as a garbage man." His little joke made him grin again.

"Who's the target, how are we getting him, yada yada yada," his impatience was getting hard to conceal.

"This is a question better directed to the little creep but he gets shy around strangers and I'll help him out," He was obviously a man who enjoyed the sound of his own voice. "You know the whole Twilight craze?" The dark clothed man nodded. "Well, I've been contracted to assemble a team and kidnap sparkles. Somebody wants to hell knows what with Robert Pattinson. Maybe some weird vampire fetish? Who knows. In approximately 5 minutes we're opening this door and you and I will pull Rpatz into the van while he crosses the street to the little bagel shop he goes to every day for lunch while filming the latest mindless cash cow that is a twilight film. We will then drive to the other side of town where our employer has arranged a meeting and we will trade Bobbie for our 200 grand."

"It's a good plan. I like it. How long left?"

"3 minutes," muttered the skinny man, avoiding his gaze.

"Out of pure curiosity, what is the minimum sentence given to kidnappers?" The dark clothed man couldn't help but coat his question with a nervous tone.

Out of every grin the bald man had worn to this point, this was the ugliest one. He was obviously amused. "About 10 years but he's a celebrity so maybe 15 to 20. I'm surprised, you're afraid of going to prison? I would be. You've probably been paid to kill the brothers, the fathers and the sons of most of the men in prison. You wouldn't last too long."

The dark clothed man had finally lost his calm. He tensed up and wrapped his fist around itself, ready to take a swing at his employer. Before his anger could lash out, the driver spoke up for the first time. "45 seconds."

They took a left at the end of the street and started going down the last block before the bagel shop. At the left corner a man was obviously out of place. He was better dressed than most of the people taking a stroll through the food district. His face was an unnatural shade of white, the product of all the make up he was forced to wear to fit the role of someone so void of color. The light turned green and he started walking across the street. The van sped up, passed through the red light and in a very fluid movement, the door was opened and the bald man and dark clothed man reached out and pulled Robert Pattinson into the van. The driver had passed next to him with perfect precision. If they had been there a second later they would have probably hit their target.

"What the fuck is going on? Where am I? Who the fuck are you?" It's easy to understand Robert's astonishment. The dark clothed man hit him in the jaw then took out a small rope and tied Robert's hands behind his back. He threw him on the other side of the van, as far as way from all the exits as he could be.

The three men looked at Robert with a childlike curiosity. "What the fuck are you three clowns looking at?"

"A potty mouth!" The bald man seemed to take some sick pleasure from rattling people's cages, "I thought you were British, where's your accent?"

"I'm in character jackass. Where are you taking me?"

"Calm down! No need to twist your panties in a bunch! We're not going to hurt you." The bald man's words slipped from his mouth like poisoned honey. Reassuring words should feel reassuring but from his lips they sounded more like the most charming threats a person could receive.

Robert inhaled deeply and averted his eyes from his captors. He took a few seconds before turning his attention back to the three men. "Okay, fine, fine. What do you want?"

"Maybe we just fancied your company." The bald man's teasing was getting absurd. His face twisted into the most mocking smile conceivable.

"Cut it out," the dark clothed man said, "it's hard enough to be kidnapped by four strange men. It really doesn't help if one of them is an asshole." His glare turned cold, wiping the smile off his accomplice's face.

They all sat in silence for the next few minutes. All eyes were on Robert as if he were an art exhibit. Strange eyes staring into his soul, trying to understand him, trying to take advantage of the exposure they had forced him into. It wasn't awkward silence. It was stark silence. Grown men keeping quiet to think.

"Baldy, do you have a daughter?" Robert's voice was so blunt, it was as if he wasn't in such a vulnerable position.

"What do you care?" The bald man had given up on being clever and being charming and was now instead rude and mean.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time you saw her?" Robert waited a few seconds before grinning from ear to ear. The dead silence probably meant that the bald man hadn't seen his daughter in a long time. "What about you little man? Still live with mom?" More silence. The skinny man even let out a little sob. Robert struggled to contain his laughter. "You fatty? Have you ever felt a woman's touch? You know besides the one from all the hookers you pay with the money you get from doing illegal things." Robert could hear a small screeching noise. It was the large man's hands gripping the wheel tighter than they should.

"Coat in the middle of the spring huh?" Robert was scrutinizing the dark clothed man, giving his dry insults a little more thought before shooting them at him. "Why do you do this? What do you have to gain from this?"

"Nothing." The dark clothed man's words flowed from his lips in a low, grave voice.

"What do you have? What makes it all worth it?"

"N-nothing."

No longer able to to contain himself, Robert started laughing. His laughter pierced deeply into the pride of all four men. Especially the bald man's. He threw himself on top of Robert and started punching him.

"You fucking stuck up prick!" His voice rang like nails across a chalkboard. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what you're saying! Mr. Bigshot Hollywood thinks he can judge us? Make fun of us? YOU are in NO position to mock us! We just kidnapped you and we're going to give you to a man that's going to cut your fingers off and twist your ball sack and make you wish you were dead!"

One fist caught his face, a couple got his chest and the rest were blocked by Robert's raised hands. The bald man wasn't a very good fighter and the only reason he had the upper hand was because of the element of surprise. Before he could really do anything to Robert, the dark clothed man pulled him off the actor with ease.

"Calm the fuck down! You are the most unprofessional person I've ever had to endure working with and if you weren't paying me, I wouldn't give it much thought and I'd shoot you in the head right now. Cool down and let's get this over before I get trigger friendly."

The bald man took deep breaths but they didn't really do anything, he was still angry. His face was still red and sweat still ran off his bald head. He was scared. He was shaking and he did his best to inch away from the dark clothed man. He turned away from everybody in the van and started thinking about ways he could bring upon Robert the embarrassment he had just brought upon him.

"You know," said the bald man, the poison honey flowing through his words again, "My daughter LOVES the Twilight films."

Robert still had a little smirk on his face from before. "Really?"

"Ooh yes she likes them a lot. She even has a poster of Jacob in her room."

Robert's smirk started disappearing slowly. "That's...lovely I suppose."

"I took her to watch the first one. I thought it was one of the most ghastly pieces of film done in my lifetime. Just horrible. Sparkling vampires? That's the gayest thing I ever heard. Princess' and fairies sparkle, not vampires. Why doesn't your character get it over with and bite Becca or whatever her name is?"

The skinny man started giggling and the dark clothed man felt the corners of his mouth slightly lift. To everyone's surprise, Robert himself started laughing.

"What can you do? Fairy vampires, 100 year old virgins...I didn't write the book. I just fake an accent, brood a lot and get a big fat paycheck. But you know what's kind of funny?"

Robert waited for somebody to answer. The skinny man, to everyone's surprise, was the one to speak up."Wh-what?"

A peculiar smile formed itself on Robert's face and his tone of voice imitated that of the bald man's. It was as if Robert was telling the most wonderful joke but only he found it funny. "I think it's hilarious how this woman writes this very absurd version of a monster and describes this being who just so happens to look exactly like me. You could read the book and swear she was giving a physical description of me and not a fictional character. I don't have to wear contacts or dye my hair or make my skin any paler. She even says I have the same tone of voice. It might as well be a biography about me." His eyes were glinting in a very disturbing manner.

"Of course you're not actually a vampire and you don't actually sparkle," the dark clothed man chuckled as he said the last word. "How long til we get there?"

"Two minutes." said the large man at the wheel.

"This is peculiar..." Robert said, "it looks like we're in the middle of nowhere. Where's my true captor's van or vehicle?"

They all took note that the directions their employer had given them had taken them to the middle of a dirt path with forest all around them, no sign of life nearby. The dirt path ended and they were in a big empty field, no one in sight.

"He's probably only late," the bald man said, "we'll call him and see whats going on. Where's the cellphone?"

The skinny man took a small, old looking cellphone out of his pocket and handed it over to the bald man. As he dialed the number, Robert's voice rose above the beeping noises. "I'm very, very famished." They were all startled at the hunger that shone brightly in his eyes.

"Shut up, it's ringing."

They all looked up at the bald man, the cellphone against his ear, the ringing very audible in the otherwise silent vehicle. Then a phone started ringing loudly. Again. With each beep of the bald man's cellular phone, another that was in the car rang too. They all looked around nervously to see where the ringing was coming from. At the last beep, a voice was heard through the cellphone and throughout the van.

"Hello," Robert said into the cellphone he held in his no longer tied hands. "Who is this?" His voice was that of somebody telling a joke only he understood. The bald man dropped the cellphone and looked at Robert with a confused expression. Fear tore itself into all their hearts as they looked into Robert's hungry eyes and finally understood the joke.

The night swept over the country side, blowing a cool breeze against the motionless van. Nature clicked and chirped and slept and so did machine, civilization too far to mind or care. A figure emerged from the van leaving the door ajar. His perfect features shone in the moonlight and his auburn eyes were filled with tranquility and satisfaction. His shirt was stained with a crimson liquid that was slowly drying. His jacket was covered with various holes, perfectly round, left there by bullets that tried to force themselves through his impossible to pierce skin. He undressed himself and followed the sound of water where he bathed, his thirst quenched.

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**I'm always looking to improve my writing**

** and a little feedback might be helpful. **

**Thanks for reading. **


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